


no death

by badskeletonpuns



Category: The Black Tapes Podcast
Genre: Angst, Bad end, Death, F/M, Gen, Sad, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 10:02:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6280138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badskeletonpuns/pseuds/badskeletonpuns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was written for a kiss meme on tumblr. It is very, very sad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	no death

_My baby has a swollen face_

_Long stiff limbs_

_Them eyes are black pits_

_Of a place where I've been_

Alex Reagan was smaller in death than she was in life. Someone who did not know her well in life may have said that she looked like she was asleep - they would be wrong. 

Even in deep sleep, Alex was never this still or this silent. She and Strand often worked late into the night, and inevitably one of them would succumb to the urge to close their eyes for a moment on the couch or in a desk chair. Alex slept in fitful bursts, breathing quickly and shivering no matter how many blankets Strand draped over her as she slumbered. 

And now she lay unmoving, eyelids closed and face slightly gray underneath the makeup the mortician had carefully applied.

_  
No death can_

_Tear us apart_

_Her body is cold_

_Well it’s gonna get colder_

_But my love will ignite_

_What was left to smoulder_

The funeral didn’t start for another hour or so, Strand wasn’t sure. He would leave before it started. He had no interest in talking to anyone else who might show up - their insincere kindness and morbid curiosity about his own emotional state would do nothing to bring Alex back.

But he still wanted to say goodbye, and the funeral director had allowed him a few moments alone with Alex. Perhaps the more correct phrase would be ‘a few moments alone with what used to be Alex’. He didn’t want to insult her memory by attributing this corpse to his knowledge of Alex Reagan.

“I’m sorry, Alex,” he murmured. “Things should not have ended this way.”

_All day_

_I stay by her side_

_But death has a claim_

_And a right to my bride_

A piece of her hair was falling over her face, partially obscuring Alex’s features. 

Strand remembered her complaining about that chunk of hair while they worked together. She was trying to grow out bangs, and this particular piece kept slipping out of her messy ponytail while she leaned over printed articles or mysterious clues. 

One night, he’d been unable to stop himself from reaching out and tucking the strands of hair behind her ear. Alex had stopped mid-explanation of her documents, looking up at him with those soft eyes of hers wide in surprise. He had apologized hastily, and they’d moved on with the case. Just brushed it off like it was nothing.

Now he tucked that piece of hair behind her ear for the final time, and this time he let his hand linger on her face. Alex’s skin was smooth and cool to the touch, like a stone polished by innumerable decades of river water. The makeup on her face concealed the tiny freckles that had spotted her skin in life, like stars disappearing into a seamless void.

_I shut the doors_

_Pull the curtains and hide_

_I heard something moving_

_Somewhere outside_

_No death can_

_Tear us apart_

Strand closed his eyes and took his hand away from her face. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand here just looking at Alex’s remains. 

When Cora disappeared, there had been no body. No fashionably dressed corpse, no makeup brushed over a deathly serene expression. And he hadn’t had the chance to mourn her like this. He’d been too busy being the suspect for her murder and trying to solve her disappearance himself.

There was no mystery to solve with Alex. 

Just her lying on the ground, shattered like a fallen bird.

Takotsubo cardiomyopathy, they had told him. A heart attack, in simpler terms. Brought on by stress and a lack of sleep. There was nothing anyone could have done.

All the alleged demons, the conspiracy, the murder; not one of those could kill her. All of them did, in the end.

He opened his eyes again, as if something would have changed in the past few seconds and Alex wouldn’t actually be dead. She would sit up like nothing had ever happened, smile at him (he didn’t think about how tired her smile had been growing over the past few months, how it had steadily gotten weaker and the bags under her eyes only grew), and everything would be like before.

_But death comes a sneaking in_

_Through the keyholes_

_He's clever and he knows_

_What's beneath the floorboards_

_Death comes to feast_

_Like a greedy hungry beast_

_He wants it all_

Of course nothing had changed. She was dead. 

For a moment, Strand briefly considered the option that this was a hallucination or a nightmare, and in moments Alex would shake him awake and pull him out the door to talk to another witness, chase down another lead, anything!

Anything other than this silence. 

He coughed and shook his head. Thoughts like that would do nothing but cloud his mind. Strand had come here to say goodbye, and he had to do that, at least. Alex deserved that much from him.

“Goodbye, Alex,” he said, looking down at her still form. Strand leaned down in one last moment of irrationality and softly kissed her forehead. He closed his eyes, still leaning over her body. “I miss you,” he whispered, barely audible. 

Strand stood there for a moment longer, unable to force himself to move away from Alex’s remains.

He had to leave. There was nothing for either of them in this building anymore. 

“Goodbye,” he said again, as if repetition would give the word the finality he so desperately needed. The sound of his voice seemed to resonate in the small space between him and Alex, and for a moment he thought he heard Alex’s voice. 

'Goodbye, Richard. I miss you too.'

Standing up swiftly, Strand exited the building as fast as he could without breaking into a run. Apophenia. Alex was dead. He wanted to hear her voice. Apophenia. So he misheard the echoes of his own voice in the empty building, thinking he heard her when he knew he was alone in the room. Apophenia. That was all it was. It was common to think you felt the presence of a loved one or heard their voice shortly after they died. It was only apophenia.  
The trouble was, he wasn’t sure he wanted it to be apophenia this time.

_And here he crawls_

_And here he crawls_

_And here he crawls_

**Author's Note:**

> that was a thing that i wrote? first stragan, whattup. this is also posted on tumblr: http://weirdmageddon-wendy.tumblr.com/post/140489176792/12-stragan  
> also the stress heart attack thing i said alex had IS a real thing, but it also could have been secretly demons that killed her. We Just Don't Know.


End file.
